


Love Is Not A Fairytale

by Lightning_Bee



Series: Tragedy Series [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Demon Dean Winchester, Hurt Castiel, M/M, Past Mpreg, Sam 'Boy King of Hell' Winchester, Season 4 AU, Slavery(ish), Submissive/Bottom Castiel, Tragedy Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-07
Updated: 2012-11-07
Packaged: 2017-11-18 04:10:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/556762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightning_Bee/pseuds/Lightning_Bee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes telling his son bedtime stories is the hardest part of Castiel’s day.<br/>“Daddy, why are you crying?” Jason asked, scrunching his little face with a frown. In the doorway, Dean cleared his throat and Castiel turned his head nervously, blue eyes meeting black. He looked back to Jason straight after wiping his eyes as he lied. “Because I’m happy.” Dark Destiel oneshot AU. DemonDean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Is Not A Fairytale

__**A/N: Sometimes I seriously think there is something wrong with me. I think ‘Let’s write some Destiel fluff’ and what do I come up with? This depressing angst fest. Despite that, however, please enjoy!**  
Pairing: Destiel (with a demonic, dominant Dean)  
Disclaimer: As you can tell by the word ‘disclaimer’ I don’t own it.

 

It was bedtime and in Jason Winchesters eyes that meant one thing; the best event of the whole night- a bedtime story from his Daddy. For Castiel, on the other hand, it was a nightmare. He had long ago accepted his place in hell but every now and then the memories of before would become too much for him and these were generally the nights when Jason would ask for that story. It was one Castiel wished he had never been foolish enough to tell in the first place and it was Jason’s favourite by far. It was the fairy tale of the angel of hell who had come to save the righteous man but failed and remained in hell instead. Sighing, Castiel picked up the excited five year old boy and balanced him on his hip, carrying him into his bedroom without a word. He could tell tonight was going to be one of the nights Jason requested his favourite story.

“Daddy, can you tell the one about the angel tonight?” the boy asked sweetly, sucking on his thumb as Castiel gently put him down on the bed. The angel brushed some of Jason’s sandy blonde hair out his eyes before nodding and neatly tucking him in.

“Of course I can,” he replied softly, sitting on the edge of the bed and hiding his discomfort. It frustrated him that he had to act to seem unaffected now but it had been a long time since he had been emotionless. He missed the peace that had once given him. Taking a deep breath, Castiel began his story focusing on Jason’s young, dimpled face rather than the words he let flow. “Once upon a time there was a man who loved his little brother very much. In fact he loved him so much that when a very nasty demon got some to kill his brother, rather than let his brother die, the man sold his soul to an evil monster to get him back.”

“And the monster gave him one year to live?” Jason whispered quietly. Castiel forced a small smile at his son before he spoke, trying to hide his sorrow as the memories began; the recollections of two brothers who would do anything for each other even when anything was too much.

“And the monster gave him one year to live,” he confirmed, shifting slightly from his place on the edge of the bed before continuing. “So the man’s little brother came back to life in a flash and the deal was made but when the man’s brother found out what he had done he was upset. He didn’t want his older brother to die. So he spent a long time trying to find a way to save the man. He tried and tried but he couldn’t find a way.”

“And then he ran out of time?”

“Yes, because there was no way to save the man. The deal couldn’t be broken. So when the year was up big ferocious hellhounds came to take the man to hell and there was nothing either of them could do. Thus the man was dragged into perdition and his brother lived. And in hell he was tortured painfully by an even crueller demon called Alastair for thirty hell years and Alastair was horrible. He was one of the nastiest demons in hell so, after thirty years the man gave up and Alastair gave him a blade and he started to help torment others to escape the pain.”

“And then the angel came!” Jason crowed excitedly, not bothered by the evil and cruelty now interwove into the story. Castiel nodded slightly, swallowing back the lump forming in his throat.

“After a while, an angel was sent from heaven to save the man. He was the angel of Thursday and so it was a Thursday that he landed in hell to save the man, who was still torturing people on the rack. Only the angel didn’t know that a dramatic change had happened in hell just hours before he arrived. The man’s brother, the one the man had saved, had also stormed hell and had taken the throne as Boy King of the whole of perdition. So he didn’t know that the man was no longer forced to stay in hell and he didn’t know the man had been expecting him.”

“And when the angel landed?” Jason asked quietly with wide eyes as if he had never heard the story before.

“The man knew who the angel was at once and greeted him like a friend. The angel was confused. He had not expected the man to know who or what he was but he did. Then the angel noticed who was the one the man was torturing.”

“Alastair?” 

“Alastair,” Castiel repeated with another nod. “The angel tried to run when he realised because he knew what it meant. He knew now he couldn’t save the man and knew that his brother must have taken the throne of hell. Only the man knew what the angel would do and stopped him before he could fly. H-he grabbed the angel by the wings and the angel cried out because it hurt. No one is allowed to touch an angel’s wings without permission because it always hurts when they do.” And that was an understatement. Non-consensual wing contact was agony for all angels. There wings were so sensitive they had to be fully comfortable with such an action. Castiel ran a hand through his dark hair, regaining his bearings before he carried on with the story, voice slightly rough now. “Yet the man didn’t let go because he wanted the angel to stay even though the angel wanted to go home. But the angel wouldn’t stop fighting even through the pain and the man didn’t truly want to hurt him.”

“Because he loved him?” Jason asked innocently.

“Because he wanted to love and be loved by the angel,” Castiel corrected gently. “So the man said an old spell that he heard of from an ancient manuscript before he had even been sent to hell to bind the angel to him forever so the angel would cease struggling against him. As soon as he finished the spell the angel went limp just as he wanted and fought no more. H-he couldn’t. The spell had claimed him endlessly so he could never leave the man’s domain. He belonged to the man now and forever unless the man let him go.”

“But the man would never let him go right?” the five year old enquired fearfully but not out of anxiety for the angel, never for the angel, always for the man. Castiel shook his head sadly, not noticing the figure that now watch from by the door, too wrapped up in his anguished story telling.

“Never,” he replied voice no more than a whisper as bitter tears swam in his eyes and flowed freely down his face. “The man never let him go. And slowly the angel fell, not only from grace but into love as well as all his emotions awakened from what would have been an eternity of slumber in his grace.” There was silence between them for a moment before the five year old tried to sit up but was too exhausted and fell back into his bed.

“Daddy, why are you crying?” Jason asked, scrunching his little face with a frown. In the doorway, Dean cleared his throat and Castiel turned his head nervously, blue eyes meeting black. He looked back to Jason straight after wiping his eyes as he lied. 

“Because I’m happy.”

“Do people cry when they’re happy?” Jason said, his brow furrowing sweetly in concern, although his eyes were fluttering drowsily to signal he would be asleep soon. “I thought they only cried when they were sad.” Castiel shot a nervous glance over to Dean before his eyes flickered back to his son.

“Sometimes people cry when they’re happy,” he said softly, stoking the boy’s hair as he began to fall asleep. “Angels always do.”

“Are you an angel Daddy?” Jason muttered sluggishly as he snuggled deeper into the covers. Castiel let out a sad sigh at the question as Dean walked over and put his arms around him, drawing his hand away from his son’s hair and pulling him to his feet. The boy didn’t notice, already asleep as his Daddy was drawn away, and he missed the heartbroken reply that followed.

“I was.”


End file.
